


Schrodinger's Chat

by bacta_junkie



Series: Miraculous Musings [4]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Major Transgender Character, Other, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-07-26 21:03:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7590283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bacta_junkie/pseuds/bacta_junkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Plagg, claws out.”<br/>“I can’t keep doing this, kid; I’m going to need to recharge at some point-“<br/>“Please,” he whispers, fighting back tears.<br/>The cat sighs. “Okay. One more time.”</p><p>(Adrien Agreste loves being Chat Noir. Adrien Agreste can't stand being Adrienne Agreste.<br/>In Which Adrien Is Transgender.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, I've been working on this for a few months now- in case you were wondering why I haven't posted anything in a while- but I haven't uploaded it yet because I'm a bit hesitant, and you'll understand why. I am not cisgender, but I am also not transgender, and I am concerned that my portrayal of Adrien may not be realistic, that I might have danced around the issue, that a lot of things I could've done better, I did not.
> 
> Regardless, I am satisfied with the way this story has turned out. There will be ten chapters, including the prologue and the epilogue; I will try to be consistent with my posting, but I'm going on a cruise with my family next week, so if I take a few days to add the next chapter, don't freak out, I promise it's still coming. I will not ever abandon a story.
> 
> Without further adieu.

Adrien Agreste stands in front of the mirror and takes in his appearance.

Soft in places where it should be hard. Round in places where it should be flat.

Ugh.

“Plagg,” he mutters. “Claws out.”

The magic wraps his entire body in leather. When he opens his eyes, he smiles weakly.

Long hair is suddenly much shorter, flung about his head haphazardly. A face that was once the perfect image of femininity, abruptly now chiseled and strong-jawed.

He runs a hand down his leather-clad chest.

Flat. Muscled. _Masculine._ It’s magnificent.

He releases the transformation.

Soft. Curvy. _Feminine._

He chokes back a sob. “How is this even possible, Plagg?”

“It’s magic, kid,” the black cat says, hovering next to Adrien’s face and watching the two of them in the mirror. “The transformation makes you what you want to be; your ideal self. You’re not the first one I’ve gotten.”

“I-I’m not? There are others?!” Adrien says, shocked, but hopeful.

“Of course not. There was one sweet kid in the 20s- you should’ve seen her in the suit, my goodness. Before I found her? Towering, broad-shouldered, intimidating… but in the leather, she was tiny, thin, she loved it.” He drops to Adrien’s shoulder, leans his head on the boy’s neck. “Wish I could tell you more, but some secrets need to be kept.”

Adrien nods, too distracted to give more than a token thought to Plagg’s story. “I’m not alone…” he mumbles. “There are people like me.” His hands move disdainfully over his body, tugging with frustration at flesh and skin.

In the mirror, staring back at him, is the beautiful model, cover girl of every teen fashion magazine, daughter of the famous designer, Adrienne Agreste.

He sighs, and the girl in the mirror sighs with him.

“Plagg, claws out.”

“I can’t keep doing this, kid; I’m going to need to recharge at some point-“

“Please,” he whispers, fighting back tears.

The cat sighs. “Okay. One more time.”

The boy in the mirror is sculpted, lithe, thin but strong. He smirks confidently at his own reflection, eyes roaming up and down. “I look good,” he says to himself, and smiles in surprise at his new low voice.

_“Adrienne,”_ comes a muffled voice through the door, accompanied by a knock. “ _Your next shoot is in fifteen minutes.”_

He drops the transformation, quick as he can. “I-I’ll be right out, Nathalie,” he calls, cringing at the way he sounds.

Plagg watches him go, shaking his oversized head silently. 

* * *

 

The photographer sends his model home early. _I cannot have my beautiful girls looking half dead. If you can’t find a smile, I will find someone else._

Adrien is at once both relieved and ashamed. 

* * *

 

Adrienne Agreste is considered by many to be the most beautiful girl in Paris.

Models with years on her go green with envy when she struts by. She’s been photogenic since the day she was born, wearing her father’s designs with pride and loyalty.

It’s all a lie.

Adrien Agreste is trapped inside the body of a lovely girl, and he wants out. He would give anything to be male, to be manly and masculine, to experience life from the body he should have been born with.

And then along comes Plagg, and Chat Noir, and suddenly, _there he is._ There’s the man he’s been dying to see his entire life. From within the confines of the leather mask, he sees a reflection of the person he always knew he could be, somehow, and it feels so right. It’s everything he’s ever wanted.

Adrien Agreste loves being Chat Noir.

Adrien Agreste can’t stand being Adrienne Agreste.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Adrien stares disapprovingly at himself in the mirror.  
> This Chapter: Marinette has her Gay Epiphany.

Scientifically speaking, Marinette Dupain-Cheng is freaking the fuck out.

Because after six months of introspection, of awkward smiles and stuttering, of trying to figure out just _what it is_ about the new girl that makes her so nervous, she’s finally, finally figured it out.

“I HAVE A HUGE GAY CRUSH ON ADRIENNE AGRESTE,” she says, for the tenth time, pacing a ring into her carpet while Alya watches.

“You mean you just figured that out?” Alya says with a smirk, barely looking up from her phone. Marinette doesn’t notice, only continues to ramble.

“I mean of course if it had to be a girl it’d be her, I mean she’s perfect, I’m not surprised at all- she’s so nice and friendly and pretty, and she’s so quiet I just want to talk to her and be her best friend. But then like, now I’m daydreaming about her, and I can’t get the sound of her laughter out of my mind, what do I do? I don’t even know if she likes girls, I don’t even know if _I like girls_ , I mean I guess of course I do, but what if this is a one-time thing? Or what if she turns me down? Wait, why would she turn me down? I can barely talk to her, she’s not-“

For Alya, at least, this is nothing particularly new- the rambling, or the huge gay crush. Marinette had assumed, as the rest of their class had, that Adrienne would turn out much like Chloe, especially knowing the two blondes had a preexisting friendship. But something had changed between the two of them, something which Marinette referred to only as “the umbrella incident” and refused to elaborate on further. Ever since, she’d never been capable of maintaining anything resembling proper human conversation with Their Friend The Model. Alya, at least, had thought that Marinette knew she had feelings for Adrienne, but apparently she had been spending the last- what, eight months now?- stuttering awkwardly and not knowing why.

Alya snaps Marinette out of her tirade with hands on her shoulders. “Marinette. Relax. It’s not a big deal that you’ve got a crush on a girl; and let’s be real, everyone has a crush on Adrienne Agreste. If you hadn’t called dibs months ago, I might’ve asked her out myself,” she says, only half-joking.

Marinette makes a noncommittal grumble that could mean “I didn’t call dibs, don’t be ridiculous” but might also mean “back off, I saw her first.”

“Look,” Alya continues. “If Adrienne likes girls, then she’ll like you. I promise. She already said you were sweet a week ago, and I know she thinks you’re cute because you are _objectively_ cute; she’d have to be blind not to notice.” Alya gives Marinette a once-over with her eyes to emphasize the point. “You got this, girl. I believe in you.”

Marinette turns bright red but smiles back anyway, and then proceeds to hugs the daylights out of her best friend. “Thanks, Alya,” she says, stepping back. She wrings her fingers anxiously. “I’m just nervous, I don’t know. I’ve never even liked a girl before, this really surprised me.”

Alya rolls her eyes. “You’ve been staring at her since September. You can’t even talk to the girl. The only one who’s surprised is you.”

Marinette groans and throws herself, face-first, into her pillows. They make a dramatic ‘FOOMF’ as she impacts them. “Is it really that obvious?”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Alya soldiers on. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t think Adrienne has noticed either.”

Marinette rolls over and sits up, looking at the posters and magazine covers tacked up on her wall, dozens of pictures of Adrienne staring back at her. At first, she had been able to rationalize it as fashion interest; Adrienne Agreste always wore the latest designs, and she could use the wall as inspiration. But the more pictures she put up, the less it was about what the girl was wearing, and the more it became about how she looked.

_Goodness, she’s pretty_ , she thinks blankly.

Alya laughs. “You’ve got it bad girl. I don’t think you even noticed you said that out loud.”

“I-it’s not even her looks!” Marinette stutters. “I mean, when we first met, I didn’t _care_ how she looked; I just thought she was one of Chloe’s friends, and that she was doing something mean, so I told her to stuff it- you know, like I always do. But the more I got to know her, the more amazing she became- she’s so sweet, and just she cares about everyone, and I just want to tell her she’s pretty and hold her hand and make her smile, and her laugh, oh my goodness, Alya _when did I get like this.”_

Alya smiles and distractedly turns back to her phone. Only Marinette would panic over wanting to make people happy. “If you mean ‘when did I get so compassionate’, well, you’ve been like this for as long as I’ve known you. Which, fair, is only as long as you’ve known Adrienne. That said, if you meant ‘when did I get so gay’, well, let’s call that a more recent development.”

Marinette opens her mouth to say something, but as she does, two things happen simultaneously: Alya gasps at something that scrolls its way onto her phone’s screen, and a low rumble echoes in from the open window of her bedroom.

Before she can even ask, Alya is practically scrambling to get down out of Marinette’s room. “There’s an akuma attack at city hall! C’mon, I’ve got to see this!”

Marinette follows Alya as far as the front door, before stopping. “You go ahead, okay? I’d rather stay here where it’s safe, but, good luck! And don’t get hurt!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Alya calls over her shoulder, booking it towards the rising smoke.

Marinette ducks into an alley as soon as she’s sure Alya’s out of sight, retrieving Tikki from her purse. “We have to go.”

Tikki nods. “Real quick,” she says, and Marinette meets her Kwami’s eye. “I think Adrienne is a wonderful girl, and you two would be very cute together.”

Marinette groans, blushing. “ _Not you too.”_

Tikki releases a small giggle, untold secrets glistening in her eyes.

“Alright,” Marinette says, squaring herself up. “Tikki. _Spots on.”_


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Marinette has her Gay Epiphany.  
> This Chapter: Ladybug & Chat Noir are Badasses, and then they are Emotional.

Ladybug swings into city hall to find a battle already in progress, having followed the trail of destruction several blocks to the building. Overturned cars, belching smoke into the sky, marked the journey of whatever poor possessed Paris patron had been hijacked by Hawkmoth’s bastardly black butterfly. Whoever they were, they must be seriously upset, to cause this much indiscriminate damage.

She drops into cover beside Chat Noir just as a stream of fire tears through a meeting room. “What is this?”

“Nice of you to drop in, My Lady,” he says, apparently too distracted with dodging projectiles to make the obvious pun. “Might I say you look ravishing in red today?”

She rolls her eyes at him. Apparently he’s not too distracted to flirt. “Did you see anything about the akuma?”

He shakes his head no, pausing to duck beneath a jet of angry heat. “All I got was the fire and the breaking things. I did notice that whoever they are, when they shoot flames from their hands, they keep their right fist half-closed. I’m willing to bet whatever’s in their hand is where the akuma is.”

Screams echoes through the building; child’s Screams. Not screams of pain, though; something else. The both of them jerk their heads towards the source of the screaming, only to find-

“I AM TOOTH DECAY!” bellows the screeching voice of the most colorfully-dressed levitating child Paris has ever seen. A jet of flaming, telekinetic teeth erupts from the toddler’s outstretched hand, punching massive holes in the side of the building. “THE TOOTH FAIRY HAS BETRAYED ME, AND I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE.”

“ _Seriously_?!” Ladybug shouts, bursting forth from her cover. “This is just absurd!”

With a running leap, she vaults over the child just as Chat Noir gets the victim’s attention. “Hey, over here! I, uhh, I’ve got the tooth fairy on speed dial for ya!”

The rampaging youth jerks towards Chat Noir, recoiling both hands to prepare a bruising blast of burning bone, but before the fire can manifest, Ladybug pries the child’s hands open and yanks the bloody tooth from inside.

With a frustrated grunt, she tosses the offending molar to the ground and steps on it, before whipping her yo-yo around to cleanse it. Finally, she releases a wave of cleansing light with her Miraculous Cure, and once again, the day is saved.

Ladybug slumps to the ground, groaning. “You know, if I were to chart all of the akuma attacks we’ve dealt with to compare how serious the thing that akumatized them was with how much damage they did, I’m certain this one would be by far the absolute worst. That was just ridiculous.”

The child’s parents are already rushing into the building, which- Miraculously- was repaired. She and Chat Noir meet them with at the door. “What,” Chat says, breathless and exhausted, “could have possibly caused that bad of a reaction?”

The toddler’s fathers look sheepish. “We. Well. We usually give Frances a ten-euro note when the tooth fairy visits, but last night, neither of us had a ten-euro note, so we went with a five-euro note instead. And Frances…”

Ladybug does not care to hear the rest of the story. With a mighty toss of her yo-yo, she swings away from city hall, away from the battle zone, away from the brat’s parents.

But not away from Chat Noir. Chat Noir follows.

 

“That was a really fast one,” he says when she finally slows down, over a mile later. “You pulled no punches today. Got someplace important to be?”

“No, Kitty,” she smirks at him bitterly. “Just a lot on my mind. And I’m sorry for running off so fast. I can’t stand rich brats.”

Chat Noir’s face drops as his heart sinks into his gut. _Rich brats,_ he thinks. _Rich brats like you._

But he recovers, forcing a smile back onto his features. Can’t let his Lady see him hurting. Can’t let the punches get to you. “I know what you mean,” he says.

“I’m not sure you do,” she mutters, sitting herself against a chimney.

They do this, sometimes. When she hasn’t used Lucky Charm and he hasn’t used Cataclysm, when they’re not too tied up with the police or the press or the mayor to get away, when they’ve both got the time to spare to just _be_ , they’ll find a secluded rooftop to make their temporary home. The two of them will sit and talk, and just remember why they’re partners. Remind themselves how well they work together.

“There’s a girl in my class,” she starts, and he settles himself against an opposite chimney where he can look at her but not stare. At least, not obviously. “She’s the absolute worst. I’ve known her since I started going to school, she’s been in every class I’ve had, and she just loves picking on me. She’s completely delusional- she grew up getting everything she wanted, because her family’s super rich, and she thinks that everyone loves her. But she’s rude, and pushy, and sometimes she’s just plain mean. I don’t know why she doesn’t like me. I don’t know why she thinks she’s better than everyone else. Just because she’s _the mayor’s daughter-“_

Chat Noir hears nothing else. Ladybug has just revealed that Chloe Bourgeois is in her class. Ladybug has just confirmed that _she is in the same class as him._

“You know Chloe?” Chat says, before he can stop himself.

It stops her tirade, as her mind catches up with her mouth. “That’s what I said, why?”

Chat displays an enormous Cheshire-cat grin. “We’re in the same class,” he singsongs.

“Oh my gosh, you cannot tell. You can’t tell anyone. You can’t even tell me. I do not want to know.”

It doesn’t deter him. “Oh, this is amazing! Are you Rose? Are you secretly Alya? No, wait, neither of those make sense. Both of them have been Akumas. Are you Kim? Are you-“

“Stop, stop!” She waves her hand dismissively. “I can’t be Kim, because I’m a _girl_ , and even if you were to guess, I can’t tell you, Chat!”

Ladybug sighs, running her fingers through her hair in frustration. Her earrings choose that moment to beep, and she rises. “I want you to know who I am, Chat. God, I’m dying to know who you are. But we can’t. Not yet. Maybe soon, but… I’m not ready. I’m sorry.”

She steps to the edge of the roof, giving one last, wistful look back.

“Please,” Chat Noir begs. “I-I need to keep- I need to tell you something.”

She shakes her head. “I’ll see you at patrol tonight, alright? You can tell me then.”

And with that, she is gone.

Chat sits there for a while longer, thoughts fluttering in and out of his mind like butterflies.

_I can’t be Kim, I’m a girl._

_I can’t stand rich brats._

_I’m not ready._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments. Good or bad, I crave your feedback.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Ladybug and Chat Noir defeat an Akuma.  
> This Chapter: Ladybug and Chat Noir have a deeply personal conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My ultimate goal for this story is for someone to draw fanart of it.

The beautiful April sky turns cloudy with surprising speed, and by nightfall a storm has rolled in. Paris is blanketed with water, sheet after sheet of rain making its way to the earth.

And in the middle of it, possibly the only souls in all of Paris who remain some sort of happy to still be out in the warm spring shower, are Ladybug and Chat Noir.

The two heroes race across the rooftops, laughter carried by the falling water, making obstacles of the rain and the surfaces they bound on. It’s a game of tag taken to its extreme, designed to test their abilities to their limits. Rain is the absolute worst condition to fight an akuma in, so the practice of finding footing and keeping up speed is invaluable.

But, eventually, the game ends- Chat Noir reaches the Eiffel Tower first, but he was also _it_ at the time, so they call it a draw. And thus, as the thunderous song of storm turns to a soft pitter-patter, midnight finds Paris’ favored children beneath an awning atop the landmark.

It is a warm company, always. Despite the awkward, abrupt ending to their earlier conversation, there is little that could ever get between Ladybug and Chat Noir. At the end of the day, they are partners, more than even best friends, a bond as ancient and unbreakable as the Miraculous themselves.

“Earlier…” Ladybug says, capturing Chat’s attention. “You said you had something you needed to tell me.”

Chat Noir tries to summon his courage. It all seemed so urgent a few hours ago.

“Just… something you said,” he replies. “You said you couldn’t be Kim because you’re a girl.”

They don’t talk about these kinds of things. They _never_ talk about these kinds of things. Today has already been a fluke, and if they go any further, they’re likely to say things that can’t be unspoken.

He keeps going anyway.

“The miraculous is pretty- well, miraculous. It makes you into a more idealized version of yourself.”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “Of course. I’m not this tall out of the suit, you know. Or nearly as graceful. I’m actually really clumsy,” she says, sheepishly. She should stop talking. She’s already proven that they know each other, at least in passing, outside the masks. She’s could give herself away, if she’s not careful.

But maybe that wouldn’t be so bad…

He shakes his head, rousing her from that train of thought. “It’s more than that, though. When you look in the mirror, you’re still seeing the same person. It’s…”

There aren’t good words for this. There may never be good words for this.

“What if I were to tell you that I am actually a girl?”

There _really_ aren’t good words for this.

“Well,” Ladybug begins. “Well, do you mean in the suit, or out of the suit? Because if you’re- oh. Your idealized self.”

“Yeah,” he nods. “I’m not Kim either.”

She examines him closely. It’s the same Chat he’s always been, but he can’t help but feel smaller under her gaze.

“Chat Noir,” she says. “Who do you want to be?”

It’s the last thing he expects to hear. He takes a moment to recover.

“I-I want to be Chat Noir. I want to be me.”

“No, no, I get that,” she says, “but who is that person? Are you a boy, or a girl? And I don’t mean when you look in the mirror- I mean who are _you_? You can be either, both, neither- it’s entirely up to you. Who are you? Who is Chat Noir?”

Nobody has ever asked him that before.

“I,” he says. “I. I am… a boy. I am a man.” He has to repeat himself. He’s never heard the words come from this voice before. Or the other one, for that matter.

She smiles back at him confidently. “Very well then, Kitty. And a very handsome man you make.” She ruffles his hair a bit, and he feels the weight of the cosmos depart from his shoulders. A knot in his stomach, one that feels like maybe it’s been there since he was born, begins to loosen.

“I’ve felt like this for as long as I can remember,” he begins to explain. “It’s… weird, like you wouldn’t believe, feeling like you don’t belong in your own body. I don’t really know how to describe it. I don’t think it even registered until I became Chat Noir. It wasn’t like I went around thinking, ‘Oh, I look good in pants,’ or some such- and it wasn’t like I woke up one day thinking, ‘I think I’m actually a man.’ It was a bunch of little things over a long time, that I didn’t even notice until I transformed for the first time, and suddenly I was- well.” He gestures noncommittally to his very masculine body. “I was this. It all clicked into place, then. This is who I’m meant to be. This is who I want to be. This is who I am.”

Chat Noir breathes a massive sigh of relief, suddenly very tired.

“I’m sorry for that; I know you don’t like talking about our personal lives-“

“Don’t you dare,” she says, cutting him off. Her eyes, that sparkling, shining blue, are filled with steel and justice. “This is much more important than that, _chaton._ You are my absolute best friend and you should be able to bring these things to me. I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me about this.”

She pauses a bit. “Have you told anyone else about this? Does your family know? Are you planning on doing something-“

He cuts her off. “I’ve only felt like this for a few months, maybe. It’s still new. I don’t know if I want to do something about it, yet. I don’t feel comfortable the way I am, but I don’t know what I could do about it. And, my family…” he struggles to find the words. “I can’t tell them about it. I don’t think it would go over well. Best to keep it to myself until I figure it out.”

She is suddenly slightly smaller, a bit of her confidence draining away. “I get what you’re going through, a little.”

He is surprised. “You do?”

She nods. “Before the akuma attack, I was sort of c-coming out to my best friend. I… I didn’t even notice I was- well, not straight, until a few weeks ago, and now it’s like it’s been right in front of me all along, and I can’t believe I didn’t notice! I mean, I don’t know if I’m gay, or bi, or whatever, but I’m definitely not straight, especially with this huge crush I’ve got now- _Anyway_ , I just wanted you to know, I understand what it’s like to never quite feel like you belong- to suddenly realize that you’re different than you thought you were, or maybe that you were always like this but didn’t know- I’m just going to stop talking.”

Through it all, Chat Noir, manages a relaxed grin. “You’re perfect, My Lady, exactly as you are. You don’t ever have to worry about who you love, just as long as the love is real. And might I ask who the lucky lady is?”

Ladybug rolls her eyes again, but a bashful smile graces her features. “I really shouldn’t say. But… I could tell you about her, if you like.”

Chat smiles back, trying desperately to ignore the unpleasant feeling that is slowly returning to the pit of his stomach. “I would like that.”

She looks up at the sky, still cloudy but no longer falling. “She’s amazing. I didn’t like her much at first, but she’s grown on me so much. She’s kind, and talented, and friendly. She’s quiet but polite, and she’s creative, and she’s absolutely gorgeous, Chat, you should see her. I can’t believe I never noticed her before, but now it seems like she’s everywhere. I mean, she really is everywhere.”

He perks his ears up, slowly putting the pieces together. “Is she in our class?”

Ladybug nods once, looking back at him.” Yeah. I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Tell me?” He says, voice trembling. “Please?”

She blushes, and turns back to the sky, if only because she can’t look at him when she says it. “I am in love with Adrienne Agreste.”

When she turns back, he is gone.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Ladybug and Chat Noir swap secrets.  
> This Chapter: Well. You'll see.

The rain comes back, with a vengeance.

The wind howls through the streets of Paris, carrying anything not tied down with it. Up above, claps of thunder and streaks of lightning serve as warnings to any who might dare venture out into the torrential downpour. Windows rattle, cars shake, nowhere is safe.

And it is these horrendous conditions that see Chat Noir atop an office building close to the financial district. A structure that just so happens to be topped with it a billboard, upon which Adrienne Agreste’s enormous face is adorned.

His hands, clinging tight to the steel pole as the wind whips around him, shake and rattle, willing the poster to sway with him.

“I’m so sick of you!” he says, fury in his bones. “I wish you didn’t exist! I can’t stand you!”

“You did this! You _TOOK HER FROM ME_!” He screams, and it is lost to the howling gale. “ _I HATE YOU_!”

With a mighty cry, his claws wrench clean through the metal, and the billboard crumples in front of him. Chat Noir sinks to his knees, frustration and despair bringing tears to his face.

_“I hate you…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> True art is about suffering.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: So Much Angst. (In Which Adrien Destroyed Billboards.)  
> This Chapter: Marinette finds out about the storm. Ladybug visits Adrien.

Marinette sleeps poorly that night. She spends the evening worrying about Chat Noir, trying to track him down, but Chat Noir is elusive on the best of days, and when the weather turns bad, she retires. He’d have to be insane to stay out in conditions like that.

Her dreams are filled with thunder.

The person who leads her through the empty city streets has beautiful golden hair and the most stunning green eyes. Their voice is lilting and playful, and their laughter makes her heart stutter.

Trouble is, when she wakes up, she can’t remember if it’s Adrienne who led her, or Chat Noir.

In the morning, she stumbles out of bed to make herself breakfast, leaving Tikki slumbering in her hiding place. There’s no way for her to access Chat unless they’re both suited up, but she’s certain he’s alright. She has a feeling that if he’d been hurt somehow, she’d know.

Breakfast successfully fixed, she sets herself down on the couch beside her dad, who is watching the news. Sunday is the one day of the week the bakery is closed, but early rising is a hard habit to break. Her thoughts elsewhere, she almost doesn’t hear the voiceover on the screen.

“…yet another mysteriously destroyed, making a total of fifteen billboards and advertisements violently torn down last night, which would be understandable given the awful weather we had. But what makes this unusual is that the only signs destroyed were those bearing the image of teen model Adrienne Agreste, recently put up to promote her father’s spring fashion line. No other signs in the area were knocked down, or indeed, even touched, by the weather.”

Marinette looks up from her cereal with a gasp. _Someone is destroying Adrienne’s ads?_

On the screen, a video taken by a citizen the night before shows a billboard out a hotel window rattling in the wind and beginning to collapse. She reaches for the remote to turn up the volume, and abruptly chokes on her _flocons givrés_.

There, in the corner of the video, leaping away just as the advertisement caves in on itself, is a flash of black against grey, and the tiniest hint of bright green in the darkness. She would have missed it if it weren’t for the fact that it’s so eerily familiar to her.

_Chat Noir_ spent the previous evening destroying Adrienne Agreste’s advertisements.

_Oh, Chaton… This isn’t like you._

At first, she thinks it might be another akuma. But then, akumas weren’t usually quite so specific- even the ones that were directly targeting Chloe had a habit of causing some collateral damage to the surrounding area. And if it was an akuma, what would make them want to look like Chat Noir?

Suddenly she’s infinitely more frustrated with her situation. She has no way of reaching him. Unless there’s a real akuma attack in the next 36 hours, she’s stuck waiting for their next patrol- Monday evening- to speak with him.

Marinette makes a valiant effort to finish her breakfast, but it just doesn’t sit right in her stomach anymore. With a bitter, noncommittal hrmph, she stands from the couch and deposits her dish in the sink, making no excuses as she returns to her bedroom.

Her kwami remains asleep, but her phone does not. While she’s been watching TV downstairs, it has apparently been buzzing away without her.

**Alya** 10:16 AM: Are you watching the news???

**Alya** 10:21 AM: Someone is targeting Adrienne’s ads

**Alya** 10:28 AM: It seems really serious I think it might’ve been an akuma or something

**Alya** 10:34 AM: Wake up!!!

Marinette grabs the offending device and dashes off a quick reply before Alya can finish berating her.

**Marinette** 10:35 AM: Sorry!!! I was eating breakfast

**Marinette** 10:36 AM: Yes I saw the news. I’m sure it wasn’t an akuma, LB and CN would’ve stopped it

**Alya** 10:38 AM: that’s true. Saturday nights are their patrol nights, they’d have been all over it

Marinette smirks at how well Alya, even unknowingly, knows her.

**Alya** 10:40 AM: but that means some ordinary crazy person was dedicated enough to scale those buildings and knock over those signs in that awful weather, over and over again, and honestly that’s way scarier

Marinette shudders at the thought. If Chat Noir really had it out for Adrienne, if her partner truly held animosity for her crush, enough to make him get _violent_ , then…

She shakes the thoughts from her head. _This is Chat Noir we’re talking about here._ Sure, he’s a flirt, and he sometimes gives her the impression that he’s got deeper feelings than he lets on- especially after last night- but he’s also the most selfless person she knows. He wouldn’t hurt Adrienne, especially knowing what it would do to Ladybug.

Still…

She types out the most plausible lie she can think of, which admittedly is a weak one, considering how distracted she feels.

**Marinette** 10:44 AM: What if it’s just a coincidence Alya? I mean, those ads were put up like a week ago. Maybe they were just constructed poorly. I’m absolutely certain nobody is out to get Adrienne.

She tosses the phone on her bed without waiting from a reply. Instead, Marinette nudges the sleeping god on her bookshelf.

“Tikki, wake up. We have to go.”

Tikki is on like a light. “What’s going on? Is someone in danger?”

Marinette shakes her head. “Late last night, a bunch of ads with Adrienne’s face on them were knocked over during the storm. I think it may have been Chat Noir…” she lets the thought trail away from her.

Tikki flutters around the room, drawing attention to the wall of Adrienne pictures. “Are you sure? I can’t imagine he’d want to hurt her, even if he did feel bad about what happened.”

For the first time, she stops herself from going off half-cocked, and forces a coherent thought process.

“I _know_ that was Chat in the video. I’d recognize his eyes anywhere. If he was out at all in that weather, even if he only knocked over a single one of those ads, he had to have been really upset. Those winds were horrible.” She shudders. “I’m not going to be able to relax until I know Adrienne is okay. Please, Tikki, do this for me.”

Tikki looks at Marinette knowingly. Marinette hates that look. Sometimes she thinks Tikki can actually read her mind.

But then she gets a sad smile from her kwami, and she knows she’s won.

“Okay. If you think this is the right thing to do, then I trust you. Let’s go.”

Marinette bears the biggest smile she can muster. “Oh, thank you so much, Tikki! _Spots on!”_

 

Adrien wakes from his third nightmare since collapsing into bed just a few hours ago. In this one, Ladybug is so disgusted by Adrienne’s… by _what he is_ , that she pushes him off the Eiffel Tower. He is saved from a grim end at the pavement- from the horrible void of fear that erupts in one’s stomach when one falls in a dream- by a loud tapping at his window.

Making his way across the empty expanse of his bedroom, he cracks the window open and inhales the post-storm spring air, only to receive the surprise of his life as Paris’ favorite superhero launches herself not only into his bedroom, but also into his arms.

“Oh, thank God, you’re alright.”

He stiffens as his early morning escapades come roaring back to him, followed immediately by Plagg’s stern lecture about the abuse of his powers.

Ladybug doesn’t know he’s Chat Noir. Ladybug doesn’t know he’s _Adrien_ and not _Adrienne_.

Ladybug doesn’t know who destroyed those ads.

She takes a step back and clears her throat. He can see the flush creeping up her neck. “I don’t know if you heard- you might’ve slept through it- but…”

As she fills him in on what he’d done the previous night- _“but I’m sure it was just the wind, nothing to be worried about,”_ she says- he realizes that he must look ridiculous, dressed in his pajamas, hair up in all directions, not a tiny bit of makeup on his face.

Then he scolds himself for the error. _She might be crushing on Adrienne, but maybe if she sees me like this, she’ll get over me… and then, what? She’ll fall for the_ other _me? Great plan, stupid._

But Ladybug, of course, isn’t aware that _Adrienne_ is _Adrien_ is _Chat Noir_ , and thus that he knows about her crush on _Adrienne_ , and wow, this is getting confusing. Trying to be a teenage boy and also a superhero alter-ego is exhausting enough; it’s so much worse trying to be a teenage boy trying to be a teenage girl, and also being a superhero alter-ego. He’s losing track of which identity is which.

“…and anyway, it’s stopped raining now, so everything should be fine, right? I’m sorry, I’m rambling; I’m just really glad you’re okay. I’ll stop talking now.”

Adrien flashes his best model smile and reassures her. “Thank you for coming to check on me,” he says, cringing internally at the high register of his own voice. It always surprises him, first thing in the morning. “I didn’t know that something had happened. But I’m flattered that you’re watching out for me. Thank you.”

Inside, Adrien’s mind is cracking. There are things Adrienne doesn’t know, and things Chat Noir doesn’t know, and keeping it together is more than he has the energy for at this point in the morning.

But Ladybug just smiles fondly and gives him one last quick embrace before stepping back towards the window. “Anyway, duty calls! I’ll just, uhm, I’ll just duck out of your hair before I overstay my welcome.”

He _wants_ to tell her to stay. He wants to tell her who he really is, _what_ he really is, wants to scream at her _I am Chat Noir and also I am Adrien, not Adrienne, and it doesn’t matter who I am either because I am deeply, irretrievably in love with you._

But he doesn’t say any of those things. Because Adrien Agreste doesn’t get what he wants. He doesn’t even get to be Adrien Agreste.

Just before she swings away, one foot on the windowpane, she turns back to him. “Adrienne, if you see Chat Noir, tell him… tell him that I’m sorry. Tell him that I shouldn’t have… Just, tell him that it’s okay. That we’ll be okay. And that he deserves better.”

She leaves.

 

Adrien locks himself in the bathroom, turns the shower on as hot as it goes, and sobs until his skin begins to blister.

 

Marinette returns to her room to find a single message from Alya waiting, recent:

**Alya** 11:20 AM: Are you 100% certain of that? Because Adrienne has some seriously good security considering nobody’s out to get her.

The text has a link to the Ladyblog’s front page. On it is a photo that must’ve been taken no more than half an hour ago, of her swinging into Adrienne’s bedroom window. The picture is accompanied by the headline ‘Ladybug Spotted Visiting Teen Model’. The article already has two thousand views.

Marinette groans and drops her phone.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Ladybug drops by for a visit with Adrienne. (Adrien falls deeper into the hellhole of despair.)  
> This Chapter: A really, really bad Akuma shows up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who are unaware, I am currently at sea, aboard a cruise ship. I was very tempted not to post this story until I got home, but I decided that y'all are more important, so I sucked it up, paid the $35 for the shipboard wifi, and here we are. No thanks necessary, just keep on reading.

Adrienne doesn’t show up for school the next day. Or the day after.

Marinette spends a good deal of time thinking about what’s happened. Adrienne was acting a bit strange when she visited her as Ladybug, but perhaps she’s just been rattled by the ads. It’s understandable that her father would want to keep her home and well-protected in that fortress of his, especially while worried someone _might_ be out to get her.

But Marinette is also still very worried about her partner. Chat Noir seemed to be taking the news of her crush very harshly, but even if he’s heartbroken- which she doubts, because he’s never seemed serious about his _love_ for her anyway- he still isn’t the kind of person to just demolish someone else’s property like that. She almost doubts that it was actually Chat Noir, except for that that is the only possible explanation for what she saw. It couldn’t have been anyone else.

It worries her further when Chat doesn’t show up for patrol on Monday night. He’s never missed a patrol. Never missed a chance to spend time with her. It takes his aching absence for her to realize just how much she needs him around.

It’s not until the end of an akuma attack that Marinette finally gets the chance to talk to him. To get to the bottom of this big mess.

To bring this whole ordeal to an end.

 

It’s eerily silent when Ladybug arrives at the riverfront. It’s not for nothing that she feels paranoid; the distinct lack of people is a far cry from the crowds their battles usually draw.

She stalks along the bridge, treading lightly. The Ladyblog said this new monster was more dangerous than usual, but something about the situation feels… _off._

There’s no noise. No signs of a struggle, no flipped cars, no smoke. There’s no screaming in the distance. There’s not even a colorful costumed villain. It’s like an entire section of the city just up and vanished. No life, no sound.

On the opposite side of the bridge, a bird flutters down into a tree. Its song draws Ladybug’s attention, as the only thing making noise within a half-mile, but before she can react, a bolt of nearly-invisible lightning- like superheated air, the way it ripples through the sky- shimmers out of nowhere, and the bird evaporates in a puff of smoke.

She gasps, and suddenly there’s a bolt coming for her.

Ladybug is just barely fast enough to avoid the shots. She is not, however, quiet enough to avoid attracting more. It takes all her energy to bring herself to a stop on top of a roof across the bridge, near the very tree the bird had perched in. Holding her breath is painful, given the way her lungs are pounding, but with her hands clasped over her mouth, she forces herself to make no sound at all.

So _that’s_ why everything is gone. Cars with doors left open, strollers vacant on the side of the road… all the people are missing.

Where did that _thing_ take them?

She chances a look over the roof, scanning the horizon for wherever those bolts came from. There’s got to be something-

_There_. A shimmer much like those of the bolts themselves, like the heat rising off of asphalt on a scorching summer day. A vaguely person-shaped form in the distance.

It hovers over the city streets, darting abruptly in this way and that, seemingly at random. A car alarm goes off, and it zips away.

Ladybug pursues.

She’s so very close. It’s right above her, just a few feet away. If she can just stay silent, she can-

“Started the party without me, have you?”

If it were any other moment, she would groan. If it were anyone else, she might even laugh. But she can hear the bitterness in his tone. In the instant she registers his voice, it no longer matters that he’s upset, because suddenly his life is on the line.

This, she can handle.  

She reacts entirely on instinct. In a single motion, Ladybug throws her full weight backwards, propelling herself on top of Chat Noir and forcing him to the ground. The bolt misses them by a hair, impacting the ground between their legs. The thud they make when they’re knocked prone ensures that another is coming, though, and she barely has time to roll the two of them over to avoid the next beam.

_Thank God for flat rooftops._

She leaps to her feet, dragging Chat with her. She can hear him try to speak behind her. She shushes him before he gets the chance. Another beam nails a chimney as they pass, and several bricks crumble to dust.

Leap. Dodge. Sprint. Ignore the fear. This is fight-or-flight, now. It’s one of her favorite and least favorite feelings that comes from being Ladybug. When she’s just brawling with an akumatized villain, when there’s no real risk involved, when she’s confident enough that her and Chat Noir will triumph in the end… sure, the adrenaline’s there, but it’s no worse than when she gets really, _really_ into a video game.

But when it’s like this, when she is truly fighting for her life, it’s an entirely different feeling. Her mind is so clear, so focused. The adrenaline kicks every thought and feeling and reaction into overdrive. Time slows down. It’s different. Intoxicating. It’s also very, very dangerous.

They lose the thing’s attention as they round a corner to hide behind a roof-access stairwell. She puts her finger to her lips, and he nods grimly. He understands.

On a normal day, this would be a pretty difficult fight. The two of them are very in sync, to say the least, but even they can’t coordinate without making a plan first.

Now, though, with the tension between them, a misstep might cost them their lives. They can’t afford to be out of sync.

She slumps to the ground, thinking hard, but Chat Noir has a faraway look in his eyes.

Ladybug knows that look. She knows it all too well. It means he’s about to do something stupid and maybe get himself killed.

She hates that look.

Her kitty stands. Oh, no.

She rises to stop him, puts a hand on his shoulder, and he turns to look her in the eye.

She shoots him her best _don’t you dare_ glare.

He kisses her square on the lips.

It’s rough, and needy, and desperate, and she barely has time to react before it’s over. He gives her a look full of regret, and guilt, and so many other things she can’t place. But he’s moving from their hiding spot before she can reach out to him.

“Hey, _sky thing_! What’s the matter; can’t stand the heat?”

She’s going to murder that cat.

It takes every ounce of willpower not to chase after him as he continues to taunt the thing. Beams of heat blast out at him at high speeds, but he’s just too damn fast.

This is the opening she needed. She creeps around the wall, yo-yo out, ready to toss.

She wills all thoughts of Chat Noir from her mind. She can’t lose focus.

Dimly, she registers something. He’s stopped shouting. She can’t hear him.

She can’t hear anything.

She lets the yo-yo fly.

 

It connects with something solid in mid-air, wrapping itself around an empty space and anchoring. She pulls, hard, with all her weight, and whatever it is- whoever is inside the person-shaped nearly-invisible bubble of hot air- falls to the rooftop gracelessly.

Victim subdued. Akuma freed. Evil purified; city saved. All done on autopilot. If she stops to let herself think again, she’ll realize what happened.

She opens her eyes when she starts hearing things again.

People crying. Sirens. Car horns. And the voice of an innocent, lying on the ground before her.

“What happened? Did I- oh, no, I didn’t-“

She doesn’t stay to hear the rest. She sees a blur of black leather bounding across the rooftops, away from her.

Ladybug pursues.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: A really quite terrible Akuma.  
> This Chapter: Reveals.

_She is still behind me._

Chat Noir leads Ladybug all over the city, but no matter how hard he tries to escape, she _just won’t take the hint._

It’s not like he’s only trying to lose her, anyway; her yo-yo can track him anywhere. If he didn’t want her to know where he was, he’d just de-transform.

But he wants to stay Chat Noir. He doesn’t want to go back to being Adrienne. He just wants Ladybug to leave him alone.

 _Maybe I should just end this,_ he thinks, and a feeling of great fatigue hangs over him. He is so very, very tired. Tired of running. Tired of pretending.

Every muscle in his body wants to be finished.

Finally, Chat Noir comes to a rest atop his own home- the flat roof of the Agreste Mansion.

“Please stop following me,” he says to her, his exasperated voice dripping with exhaustion both physical and emotional. “I can’t handle this right now.” He pivots on his heel to plead with her.

“Chat Noir, I want to help! I just want- what is going on, why can’t you just _talk to me_?”

He knows she must be worried. He’s been acting very out of character, and what with Adrienne missing class, surely she’d have spent a great deal of time stewing.

(Father pulled him- _her_ \- out of class out of concerns for Adrienne’s safety. Hopefully, he’ll let him return soon. Adrien hates missing his friends.)

He’s spent the last few days locked away in his room like a princess in a tower. Plagg has done his level best to talk him out of this awful funk,  It’s reminded him very much of the years he was homeschooled, but somehow worse. Even then, he had his mother for most of it. She would brush his hair, take him places, tell him stories. He was her darling little girl. He doesn’t like to dwell on what she’d think of him if she knew him now. Both as Chat Noir, and as Adrien. He’s not certain she’d approve of either.

He is silent, still. There’s not much he can say. Whatever it is that she needs to get out, he’ll let her do it, if only so she’ll leave him alone.

“I’m so sorry if I hurt you, Chat, I never wanted that.“ He can see tears welling in her eyes, and _oh, now that’s my fault too._ “I’m just lost, I don’t know what to do without you! Please, tell me what’s wrong!”

It tears at him, the way she really does want to help, but he can’t tell her- it’s her own rule, after all. He can’t help but appreciate the irony of the situation; he could explain to her exactly what had happened, but he’d need to reveal his identity, which she would never allow him to do.

He groans, his head lolling back in frustration. She needs to _go_. “Please leave me alone, Ladybug; I really don’t want to talk about this.”

“NO!” she says, more forcefully than he expects. He takes a step back, resting his weight on his back foot.

“No,” she repeats, quieter but no less firm. “I won’t go until you tell me what’s wrong. Why won’t you talk to me? Why did you destroy those ads?”

_She knows._

“-what did Adrienne ever do to you? She’s a perfectly lovely girl, and I’m sorry if it hurt when I-“

He cuts her off. “I’m sorry, Ladybug, but I am not the hero you imagined.”

She is finally stunned into silence. He makes the decision. He cannot imagine feeling any more heartbroken than he already is; if she hates him for breaking her only rule, then he’ll just have to live with it.

“I’m sorry for lying to you all this time, but the handsome cat you no-doubt picture under this mask doesn’t exist.”

“I know that, Chat, I don’t _care!_ I know you’re a girl under the mask, why on earth would that change how I feel? Why would that change what we have?”

He wanders over to the edge of the roof and stares out at the city skyline. If he’s going to do this, he’s going to do it now, or he might never have the guts to do it again. She might hate him, but at least she’ll know.

“I can’t stand listening to you talk about Adrienne because she’s- just- she’s just the worst thing that has ever happened to me, okay?! I hate her. _So much_.”

Ladybug stands ready to defend Adrienne. He doesn’t let her. He grasps the ring on his right hand, letting a tear slip from his eyes.

“No. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to tell me that she doesn’t deserve that, that she’s actually this perfect person full of love and compassion and kindness. You don’t know anything about her. You don’t know Adrienne at all.”

He takes a deep breath. She doesn’t speak.

“And you don’t know me either. Chat Noir is not who you think he is. I’m not… I am actually-“

He feels something deep inside him give way as he pulls the ring from his hand, as the transformation releases.

No, wait, that’s deep _beneath_ him.

Which is to say, the shingle he’s stepping on slips and he goes tumbling off of the roof.

 _This is it,_ Adrien thinks as the Miraculous sails out of his grasp, falling just a few feet above him, suspended in midair just out of reach. _This is how I die._

_I’ve lived a good life, haven’t I? I mean, I spent the vast majority of it in the wrong body, and only ever felt like myself when I was being a superhero, but hey, you can’t win every battle._

Ladybug looks over the side of the roof, face twisted in shock and horror as she watches his now-feminine body tumble into the ground.

And then, with a muted thud, Adrien Agreste impacts the dry earth, and everything goes black.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previous Chapter: Adrien falls to his death. Kind of. Not really.  
> This Chapter: Adrien and Ladybug finally have the talking-to they really should've had five chapters ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for being patient with me. I was on the boat, and then I was at Disney World, and then I was on two different airplanes, but now I am finally, finally home. The epilogue will be posted tomorrow night, and that will be the end of this story. Thank you all so much for coming along for the ride.

It is dark when Adrien finally returns to consciousness.

At first, he can’t see anything. Worrisome.

And then he realizes that the lights are off, and that if he’s dead, then death is a lot comfier than he expect. And then he realizes that he’s in his bed. With a good deal of exertion, he reaches over to his bedside table and activates the lights via remote control. He’s got a pounding headache, and his vision is still a bit fuzzy, although that might just be his eyes adjusting to the light.

A burst of red light comes from the crack in his bathroom door, and Ladybug emerges from with a glass of water. “Oh, thank goodness, you’re awake! Here, take these, they should help with that bump on your head.”

He brushes his hair out of his face and swallows the handful of pills she shoves in front of him without stopping to think what they might be. Then, muttering a ‘thank you’, he takes the glass of water and swallows the entire thing.

Ladybug chuckles when Adrien spills some of the water down his chin. “I must say, you gave us quite the scare there, Kitty,” she says, sitting down on the bed next to him. Her face is full of kindness. He never imagined she’d still be here after she found out.

It is then that Adrien realizes that he is not Chat Noir. He’s _Adrienne_.

A jolt of white-hot electric panic shoots down his spine, and he pushes himself into the corner, up against the wall. “Y-you. I fell! You’re- I’m! _My Lady-!”_

Ladybug holds up a finger, quieting his thoughts. “Shush. You’ve been running away from me for too long, Chat, and I’ve been running from you for some time too, Adrienne. It’s time we had a talk, because if we’d just been honest with each other from the start, this entire mess could’ve been avoided.”

Very little of her words register in his mind, but the sound of her voice and the comfort of her presence are enough to stop his heart from racing. It takes him a moment of thought, and then: “How come you didn’t take me to the hospital? You didn’t have to stay.”

She smiles, and suddenly it’s the brightest thing in the room. Or perhaps he’s still feeling lightheaded. “Plagg told me you were okay. Said he could feel your energy stabilizing, whatever that means. He’s raiding your pantry.”

She shifts a tiny bit closer. “I understand why you- _dislike_ Adrienne, now. What you said to me the other day… you weren’t jealous that I had fallen for you- _her;_ you were upset because I had fallen for the wrong side. You thought you’d lost me to your other half.”

He holds up a hand to slow her down. “She is not my other half. She is… a mistake. I was never supposed to be like this. And please, My Lady, do not call me _Adrienne_.” He spits the word. Even now, so many years into it, it feels _wrong_ on his tongue. He can barely stand hearing it from her- and he could listen to her say anything.

Ladybug nods. “So what should I call you, then?”

“Adrien,” he says after a moment’s hesitation. “Call me Adrien. That’s my name.”

It’s the first time he’s ever said it out loud to another person. Sure, he told Plagg, but Plagg knew from his energy that he wasn’t Adrienne from the very start. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, willing his heart to relax and his lungs to calm, with some measure of success.

His Lady looks thoughtful for a moment. “This explains quite a bit, you know. Why you thought I was Kim for a while. Why you destroyed all those billboards. Why you’re constantly disappearing during the attacks. Have you told anyone else? About Adrienne, not about Chat. I know you haven’t told anyone about Chat.”

He shakes his head. “Plagg knows, but that’s because he’s the one who puts me in the suit.”

“And what a good job he does,” she mutters, giving him a once-over with her eyes. She smirks at his blush, and then releases a short laugh.

He rolls his eyes at her, and then draws himself together. “If you get to know who I am, I want to know who you are. It’s only fair.”

All of a sudden, Ladybug is very quiet. “A-are you sure? I mean, I don’t-“

Adrien holds up a hand to stop her. “I’m sure. If you can survive knowing I was _this_ the whole time, then whoever you are under the mask, I’ll just have to live with it.”

She smiles a sad smile, like she’s actually worried this might be the last she’ll see of him. As though he could ever think anything but good things of her. And then there’s a flash of bright light tinted rose, and then there she is sitting on the edge of the bed. Same face, same sad smile, just an inch or two shorter.

“Marinette,” he exhales. “ _Of course._ ”

And he nearly tackles her to the bed, squeezing her in the tightest embrace he can muster. “Of course!” he laughs.

“So you’re not disappointed?” she asks quietly, hopefully.

“I could never be disappointed in you, My Lady,” he says, releasing her from his arms.

She turns bright red. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to hearing you call me that in that voice.”

Adrien frowns. “Right, this voice.”

“No, no! Not what I meant, don’t you dare! I just meant…“ She sighs. “Oh, damn it, Adrien, you aren’t making this easy.”

But the massive smile on his face betrays a change of mood. “You called me Adrien.”

“Of course I did?” she says, raising an eyebrow. “That’s your name, is it not?”

He hugs her again. “Thank you. Thank you for keeping me safe, thank you for being so accepting, thank you for not giving up on me.” There are tears in the corners of his eyes.

“You know,” she starts. “I’ve known for a long time that I wasn’t straight. I mean, I don’t think I really accepted it until I realized I was in love with- the you-who-is-not-you-but-is-still-sometimes-you-but-also-not. I was a bit panicked about that, but it was more of a ‘oh my goodness I’ve fallen for someone who is super out of my league’ than a ‘oh my goodness I’ve fallen for a girl’ sort of thing. The only reason I was so torn up about it the other day was because I was stressing over falling for Chat Noir, too, and then you turned out to be the same person and my heart is all confused, but you’ve been asleep for like four or five hours now, and Plagg has been talking me through all this- did you know there have been others like you before? And I don’t just mean transgender people- not to force a label on you, but-“

He stops her with a nod. “No, that’s right. Transgender.”

She smiles, the brightest smile he’s ever seen her give, and musters on. “Plagg said there was a Chat Noir in London in the 1920s who started out a big guy and turned into a girl no bigger than me when she transformed. I mean, can you imagine?” She says, dreamily. “And Tikki said that one of the very first Ladybugs, back in Ancient China, was completely androgynous in the suit. When they transformed, nobody could tell. They loved it. Oh, Adrien, I wish I could meet them, they sound so inspiring!”

Adrien is at a loss for words. She seems almost _proud_. In all the nightmares he’s ever had about introducing his civilian self to Ladybug, she’s never been quite so…

“Excited?” he mutters, and she perks her ears, tilting her head to the side.

“I-I didn’t think you’d be so thrilled to see me like this,” he says, gesturing awkwardly in the general direction of his human form.

Marinette’s cheeks redden a bit. “It’s not like that. I’m excited to know that you’re you- both Adrien and Chat Noir. No matter what you look like, you’re still my handsome cat. My big tough guy,” she says. “And that’s not going to change, regardless of what body you inhabit. Whatever you want to be, whoever you want to be, I’ll be right with you for all of it. I’ll fight for you to get to be that person.”

A thought occurs to him as he hides his face in embarrassment. “Hey, hang on. You’re in my bed right now. You’ve admitted you’re in love with me at least twice in the past ten minutes, and _you’re in my bed right now_. Why aren’t you blushing and stuttering? Not that I want you to be. But I’m curious.”

Marinette flashes him a sad smile- a different sad smile. The previous one looked like she was worried she might be ending something good. This one is more of the look he’d expect from her wistfully remembering someone she used to know. “I said I was in love with _Adrienne_. Adrienne isn’t real, though, is she? If there’s anything this experience has taught me, it’s that I don’t actually know you- either of you, Adrien or Chat- as well as I thought I did. I’d love to get to know you both better, though.”

“But, I mean. As long as we’re both here,” he says, and doesn’t finish the thought.

Her sad smile turns fierce. “Bring it on, Kitty.”

He shifts closer and slides a hand into her hair, bringing his lips to meet her own, and she releases a mewl of delight.

 

It’s more than two hours later that a video of Ladybug and Chat Noir is posted to the LadyBlog. In it, the two of them race along their usual patrol route, but curiously stop every few minutes to push one another against rooftops and kiss each other senseless.

The comments section catches fire.


	10. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter: Conflict resolution and makeouts.  
> This Chapter: Epilogue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally promised to update yesterday, didn't I? Oops. Sorry!  
> My goal for this story remains someone drawing fan art of it.

**_Three Years Later_ **

Adrien Agreste stands in front of the mirror and takes in his appearance.

Hard. Well-maintained. (Still squishy in some places. But mostly from pastries. He’s fallen in love with croissants.)

The trainers have done excellent work on him. The doctors his father’s euros paid for were well worth their exorbitant prices.

His face is more… structured. Rounder. There’s hair in places he’s still not used to seeing hair.

He runs the fingers of his left hand over the base of his right pectoral, just above his lowest rib. It’s remarkable what surgeons can accomplish if you throw ridiculous amounts of money at them; the scar is very nearly invisible.

Even his skin, which he’d been so worried about when he first began his transition, remained relatively clear throughout the process, thanks in no small part to the vigorous regimen of medication and creams that he was given. He’d heard stories of people on treatments having all sorts of side-effects, but such are the perks of being spectacularly wealthy- especially when a large portion of that wealth hinges on his own aesthetic appearance remaining objectively pleasing to the eye. Perhaps, if he weren’t wealthy, if he weren’t a model… he banishes the thought.

Maybe he’ll put some of his money to good use, sponsoring transitions of people like him. Helping them become their idealized selves the way he did.

Adrien flexes in the mirror. Smirks.

Plagg floats through the bathroom door. “There you are, big guy. I found him, he’s in the bathroom!” his kwami shouts, his voice surprisingly loud for a creature so small.

“I’m still pretty short, you know,” Adrien says, but he’s smiling regardless.

“Yeah, but you’re definitely the man of the house,” the black cat says in lieu of an answer. It’s accompanied with a roll of his eyes.

“Once more, for old time’s sake. _Claws Out.”_

He looks at the man in the leather suit.

Same face. Same body. Same pecs, same jaw, same stubbly facial hair.

He’s never been so happy to look into a mirror.

A pair of arms snake around his waist. His Lady’s head, sans mask, appears over his shoulder. “What’re you two up to in here?”

Adrien drops his transformation. The face that once graced the cover of every fashion magazine in Paris smiles back at her reflection. “Oh, just enjoying the view,” he replies, and she barks out a laugh.

When the tabloids caught wind of his transition, there was an absolute uproar, but support came from the most unlikely of places- Gabriel himself. He’d once thought his father would be absolutely furious with him- after all, how many times had he worried that his father only thought of him as a model, rather than his own child? But in the wake of the Hawkmoth Incident, Adrien revealed both of the true halves of himself to his father, and Gabriel had been surprisingly understanding. And so, after he’d recovered from the surgeries, after he was satisfied with his new body, after he was finally confident enough to go back under the spotlights, Adrien consented to one final photo shoot. That April, to advertise Gabriel’s newly-debuted Summer Fashion line, Adrien Agreste appeared shirtless and swim trunks-clad on the cover of every fashion magazine in Paris, and the tabloids fell silent.

“Are you ready to go?” Marinette asks- she’s occupied herself with her makeup while he reminisced. “Your father won’t be pleased if we show up late to the rehearsal dinner.”

He grins, an old grin, a Chat Noir grin. “It’s _our_ wedding, Mari. If anyone’s allowed to be late, it’s us. And besides, you’re his favorite employee. If he can stand to wait ten minutes for you to show him your designs in meetings, certainly he can stand to wait ten minutes for us to get to the tower.”

The tower, the Eiffel Tower. Adrien still can’t believe it. Gabriel had called in every favor he had. Their service would be held at Notre Dame, their reception held at the base of the Eiffel Tower, Chat Noir and Ladybug’s favorite place. Everyone in Paris would see their faces on the covers of every magazine by the time they’d returned from their honeymoon. They’d wanted a small ceremony, but Gabriel had insisted, and they had acquiesced. Gabriel, after all, had been a powerful ally in their corner; it was in no small part thanks to his efforts that it’d been so easy for Adrien to transition in the first place.

Marinette grins- a new grin, a Chat Noir grin, one he’s only just recently gotten used to seeing on her. “If you beat me there, I’ll let you take the polka-dot lingerie I’m wearing off of me when we get home tonight.”

His face turns bright red. “And if you beat me?”

And then her smile turns innocent. “I’ll just have to take it off myself, then.” Her eyes twinkle for a moment. And then, Marinette is out the bathroom door, and then she’s out the _bedroom window,_ her transformation leaving echoes of red magic reflecting off of everything in sight.

He sighs, calling after her- “Hey- wait, no fair! _I don’t even have pants on yet!”_

Plagg appears over his shoulder again. “She’s just doing it to tease you, you know.”

“Of course I do, but that doesn’t mean I can let her win,” he says, making his way to his closet.

“Dude, she’s marrying you. She already won.”

Adrien pauses, his hands full of tuxedo. “Was that a compliment?”

“Don’t get used to it,” Plagg says, shrugging.

“Regardless,” Adrien says, stopping to admire himself once more in the second full-body mirror in his closet. “I wouldn’t say she won. I’d call it more of a draw.”


End file.
